


Or maybe you don't think he's a loser at all.

by thelordbutnotreally



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caliborn's Point Of View, First Kiss, Fluff, Highschool AU, Humanstuck, Love Confessions, M/M, Somewhat friends to lovers but mostly implied, There's like one implied sex joke, first person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27649076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelordbutnotreally/pseuds/thelordbutnotreally
Summary: "Whatever. That didn't matter. You were doing this anyway.You were doing this tomorrow.And so, your furious scribbling began again, with whatever shitty boring lovesick words that came to mind."(I don't have much of a proper summary for this one.)
Relationships: Caliborn/Dirk Strider
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Or maybe you don't think he's a loser at all.

**Author's Note:**

> They may be out of character in some aspects, and I do apologize though this is fully self indulgent fluff.

This is the seventh shitty confession note poetry attempt you've crumpled, and honestly, the paper is starting to pile up. If you leave these lying around, you're never going to hear the end of it. You should be able to write better, you're Caliborn for fucks sake, and the poetry and drama was usually your strongsuit.

There's this loser kid in your class, except, you know, you're writing a fucking confession note to him, so maybe he's not a total fucking loser. 

Or maybe you don't think he's a loser at all. He was the only person that really put up with you, he drew all the things you asked, he's called you guys friends before, you even have his number. On the topic of his number... you're not fucking confessing your feelings for him over the phone, you're not insane. You valued your "friendship" enough that this was going to be a completely anonymous letter, even if your handwriting would probably give it away.

Why were you making such a big deal about confessing? You were both in high school and this was a middle school concept, but you didn't get to do anything about it in middle school, and you're doing it now. Wait, that sounds like you're implying you've been considering this for years, fuck, your conscience needs to fuck off. 

Right. Back on topic, then.

You're making a big deal about this stupid thing, because you're fucking worried that maybe, even in his infinite douchery, and his definitive homosexuality, that he's not fucking interested in you. Wasn't there that Jake kid? Whoever that was, you'd both talked about him before, but, once again, middle school.

Whatever. That didn't matter. You were doing this anyway. 

You were doing this tomorrow.

And so, your furious scribbling began again, with whatever shitty boring lovesick words that came to mind.

...

The following day went by as usual, except it was really just you, sitting with a pit in your stomach, you almost wanted to break into his locker and eat the fucking note, if you were being honest. You were unusually quiet, something you were sure was evident to Dirk, but he didn't ask, so you were relieved, even if a little annoyed. He didn't say anything about the note either, which could be a good or bad thing.

You'd slipped the note into his locker at the start of the day, and you knew he went there between every class, so when he appeared to have noticed was... a lot later than you'd expected. 

You'd both been in your last period, your shitty art class, (an ironic thing, considering the several art aspects that initially began your friendship,) when Dirk pulled out a shitty folded piece of lined paper and passed it to you. You didn't open it for a few minutes, and understandably so, you slipped a crudely worded confession note into your basically only friends locker, and he just passed you a closed up piece of paper, not actually fucking saying a word to you.

You stopped staring at the unopened piece of paper when you realized Dirk was facing your direction, whether or not he was actually looking at you hidden behind those damn shdes. You made an attempt to visibly roll your eyes at him before looking down at the paper again, actually opening it this time.

On the page was a crude, shittily drawn image of you and Dirk holding hands, with the message "We should hold hands." on the top. You gagged, annoyed at the sarcasm, and soon enough, a crumpled version of said paper was lightly tossed in his direction. 

And by lightly, you mean you threw it directly at Dirk's head, which only got you a slight chuckle in response. Yet not long after that the previously balled up piece of paper was back on your desk, neatly folded as it could be, no apparent changes made. You stuffed the shitty thing into your school binder, and went back to actually fucking paying attention to class...

...Until it ended. You made an attempt ar a quick easy escape of the classroom, only for Dirk to follow right behind you, rendering your stealthy escape anything but. You begin to make your way to your own locker, and yet he continues to follow.

"Aw, come on," Dirk started, with his usual snarky tone, which you, in hindsight, should've expected, "This is no way to treat the man you wrote such a heartfelt letter for." Of fucking course, you thought, of course he'd be a prick about this.

"I. Do not know. What you are talking about." You lie, knowing full well that neither of you believe it, but it was worth a try. At least, you thought so, even with the likelihood of failure, an attempt is an attempt.

"You know the one," Dirk perked up, in his bastardy sarcastic bitchboy way, "The long, tender confession of your feelings for me?" Fucking Strider, of course he pulled out the word tender, he knew just how to get on your fucking nerves. God, you hated him, but you didn't, and you just don't know how you feel about him, truly.

"Can it. Strider." You growled, but in a way that Dirk never seemed intimidated by, so truly, a useless move. He began digging through his pockets, which was when you truly understood, that all fucking hope for you was lost from here on out. 

"Really, Cal, I can see this was you, I know your handwriting, we've literally been friends for years." Dirk began pointing to several parts on the note, small things, things that were unimportant, generally speaking.

"You have a weird fucking way that you write your U's, you're the only person I know who uses the word "tender," and, you know, we've been friends for a while anyway, it's understandable, even." You paused, mostly phased by the mundane things Dirk could easily pick apart from your writing. He knew you liked him, but god if he could stop being an absolute fucking ass about it, maybe you'd like him more.

"Dude, stop being so fucking quiet, it's starting to freak me out, I'm not mad at you or anything," He paused, perhaps trying to give a look of reassurance, but the glasses immediately ruined it for you, ."If anything, Caliborn, I'm flattered--"

"Of course. You fucking are. Humor me. Strider. Why the fuck. Won't you leave me. The fuck alone."

"I was getting to that, you just decided to interrupt me." Dirk slipped the note back into his pockets, and gave one of his signature smug and annoying smirks, one you could just imagine kissing off of his smug stupid face.

Wait. No. Shit. Do not think about kissing him right now. Fucks sake.

"Well, it appears you've lost interest in my answer, so I'll get going." Dirk made an attempt to walk off, but no, you were not letting this snarky asshole get away that easily. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back over to you.

"Where the fuck. Do you think you are going. Tell me. Whatever you were going to. Now." You weren't as threatening as you were attempting to make yourself seem, but he probably wasn't going to find you intimidating regardless. 

"How aggressive, are you like this in the bedroom too?" Dirk joked. You did not find it funny. You knew he could tell. He cleared his throat after a few moments, before resuming his bullshittery as usual.

"Cal," You squeezed Dirk's arm harder, you hated when he called you that, he only slightly laughed in response. "What's wrong, Cal? Something up, Cal?" He knew it annoyed you. What a fucking prick. You wanted to fight him.

Except you didn't. But he was getting super fucking annoying, so, as shitty school has let out, you let go of his arm, slammed your locker, and began your regular angry walk home.

Until he started fucking following you, and continued his dumb shitfuckery.

"Cal," You winced, "come on, weren't we going to talk about this?" Dirk's insistent pestering was admirable, and, you'll think it, attractive. But no doubt this was some ploy to make you look like an idiot, so you don't want to say anything that may remotely come off as a compliment or gratitude.

"I will fucking maim you. If you call me Cal again." You threatened. You wouldn't. He probably knows that. 

"Fine, Caliborn," Dirk intentionally stepped in front of you, and you were almost fed up with him. "You can't be this oblivious, I literally gave you a shitty drawing of us holding hands, what more could you want?" 

You just blink at him. 

"That was a joke. Was it not." Of course it was, you weren't one to be wrong about these things. 

"Dude, I don't know how to tell you this, but you should get better at reading jokes." Dirk laughed again, but it was less snarky and smug than usual, which, made it seem genuine? You couldn't tell. 

He held out his hand. You took it. He smiled. Maybe he wasn't so bad, he just had to use his fucking words before you'd admit it. But you kept holding his hand nonetheless, because it felt like confirmation enough, for now.

"Just for clarification, Cal," You aggressively squeezed Dirk's hand at the nickname, which got no real reaction at all. "I do in fact like you too, so..." He paused, you paused, the walking stopped, and you turned to him.

"So maybe. We should kiss." You did not think that through before you said it, and honestly, a lot of you wished you hadn't, due to the expression Dirk was making now. 

Until Dirk let go of your hand, and took his hands, and held your face, and stood there for a second. You took his glasses, he wasn't going to kiss you if he had those on, it didn't make the moment personal enough, the moment needed to be perfect and tender and you were staring into his eyes for a moment until they shut and oh god he's leaning in--

And you kissed. Oh dear god you kissed, and you were kissing Dirk fucking Strider and THIS was what your stupid dumbass kept longing for through your friendship with him! Even when taking all of this into consideration. 

You didn't hate it. Not a single bit.

"So. Dirk." You put his shades into his messy shitty hair that had way too much gel and hairspray in it. "This. Means we are boyfriends now. Doesn't it?"

"If you want, sure." 

And with that you oh-so eagerly pulled him back in for another kiss.


End file.
